


Across the Line

by Mackaley



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Autofellatio, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Dildos, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Phone Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23561377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackaley/pseuds/Mackaley
Summary: He let out a small whimper as the edge of his thumb brushed against his clit and he quickly clamped his mouth shut, staying perfectly still in the hope that maybe Crowley hadn’t heard it.Judging by the long pause on Crowley’s end, he definitely had.“Aziraphale.” The demon’s voice was low and rough, something of a teasing edge in his timbre that sent a delicious shiver down Aziraphale’s spine. “Are you touching yourself?”-----Phone sex, two ways.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 410





	1. Aziraphale

**Author's Note:**

> What is there to say? I wrote phone sex fic bc I love phone sex fic. 
> 
> Second chapter will hopefully be up Sunday morning. When I wrote this, I didn't intend to release two chapters of porn on Good Friday and Easter Sunday but uh. Oops. Sorry, Jesus.

It seemed that thirty-six was the amount of hours Aziraphale could go now without missing Crowley. 

Crowley’s classic car show only happened once a year, a short weekend out in the country where the demon could have his car appreciated by people who actually did it properly, unlike Aziraphale who tried, Lord help him, but he knew his own enthusiasm fell flat compared to those who shared the hobby.

Aziraphale had bid him farewell with a kiss at 9:00 a.m. on Friday morning and now, at 10:00 p.m. Saturday evening, he felt a little adrift. It wasn’t that he didn’t value alone time, but he’d grown so accustomed to Crowley’s presence that the absence of footsteps upstairs or muffled muttering from the garden was lonesome.

As it was, he puttered around the cottage in his soft beige cardigan and casual trousers, preparing a cup of hot cocoa and gathering his book from the living room before making his way upstairs to the bedroom. He set the mug and book carefully down on the bedside table and then climbed on top of the covers. 

He sighed and glanced over to the side of the bed that Crowley usually occupied, long limbs splayed out as he played games on his mobile, a wandering hand occasionally caressing Aziraphale’s ankle or knee in an affectionate gesture that screamed _I love you_ louder than if the demon had actually opened his mouth. 

And, well, sometimes the wandering hand would creep higher, would rub firmly over his thighs and hips before dipping down and _stroking_ and…

He felt a warm glow and a pang of loneliness as he continued to stare at the empty spot of the bed. He wished Crowley were here to prattle on about whatever nonsense they would be arguing about and then to flash that grin that always made him weak in the knees before crawling over his body, pressing him into the sheets, and making the decision for both of them that there were better uses for their mouths at that moment. 

He realized his own hands had been wandering in lieu of the demon’s, trailing along his collarbone and up towards his neck before running back down again. He moved his hands lower, feeling the softness of his chest, the pleasant rise of his middle. Desire unspooled from the base of his neck down his spine as he imagined Crowley on top of him, narrow fingers teasing at his sides and kissing him, quick nips of teeth at his bottom lip and then the languorous slide of that tongue against his. 

He thumbed over a nipple, already standing at pert attention under his clothes, and he bit back a groan, clenching his thighs together to mitigate the fevered desire that had suddenly run through him. He scooted down, settling himself further into the pile of cushiony pillows beneath him, and opened his cardigan and the top buttons of his shirt, shivering as the cool air hit his skin and tightened his nipples even further. 

His thoughts wandered to Crowley’s hands again, those perfect, slender hands, and how they felt simultaneously rough and soft against his skin. How they could grip tightly and caress gently in turn and how every touch set him aflame. He sighed in pleasure and he let his legs fall open as he rubbed small circles at his hips and pressed his thumb against his lips, just needing the aching reminder of Crowley against him. 

The hand at his hip moved lower and he unbuttoned his trousers. He slipped his hand inside, under his briefs, and let out a pleased sigh as he _finally_ brushed up against his soaking wet slit, and dipped his fingers just inside--

A cacophonous melody blared from the table beside him and he removed his hand with a yelp, pulse pounding in his ears. He blindly reached for his phone which he forgot he had left charging and then smiled when he saw Crowley’s name. He took a deep breath to calm his frenzied heart.

“Crowley!” He winced as he realized how out of breath he sounded. Maybe Crowley wouldn’t notice.

“Hello, angel. You sound out of breath, you all right?”

Damn. “Yes, ah. Just.” He sat upright and pressed his other hand over his still furiously beating heart. “Just climbed into bed, figured I’d start on the Mary Oliver poetry I purchased last week. Feeling fine! Just fine.”

“All right.” He didn’t sound convinced. “I know we didn’t have any particular plans to talk tonight, but.” He paused. “I missed you, so.” 

Aziraphale’s heart fluttered and he gave a small smile. “Oh, darling, I missed you, too. I was just thinking about how quiet it is here without you. I don’t know how the silence wasn’t stifling before we started living together.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He could hear the smile in Crowley’s voice and his own broadened to match it.

“So how has the car show been? Have you seen any of your friends yet?”

Aziraphale heard Crowley shifting on the bed and his hand drifted absently over to the empty spot next to him. 

“Yeah, had a drink last night with Fred, that bloke with the ‘73 Plymouth Duster. He’s been here the past couple of years. Was nice to catch up. He sends his best, by the way.”

Aziraphale would never tire of being part of a matched set. “Oh, how lovely. Tell him the same when you see him next.”

As Crowley continued to talk about the past two days of the show, Aziraphale tried to listen with rapt attention, but he soon found his hands wandering again, stroking long and slow along the length of his body. Crowley’s voice was deep and warm and soothing and Aziraphale ached for him terribly.

His fingers hesitated at his still-open waistband before he slipped them back inside. As long as he kept the touches light, idle, it wouldn’t be a problem. No different than any other casual touches he could be doing right now that wouldn’t draw attention. He ran his fingers on either side of his slit and sank back into the pillows to let the warmth of Crowley’s voice and his arousal envelope him. He did so _love_ when Crowley spoke so passionately about things that he cared about.

He realized several minutes in that it was hard to keep himself suspended in that lazy drag of arousal without escalating it. Not when he thought about riding Crowley’s cock as the demon continued to speak. He wanted Crowley to ignore him until it became too much to bear and that’s when he would grab Aziraphale’s hips tightly and fuck up into him before spilling hot and deep.

He let out a small whimper at the image as the edge of his thumb brushed against his clit and he quickly clamped his mouth shut, staying perfectly still in the hope that maybe Crowley hadn’t heard it. 

Judging by the long pause on Crowley’s end, he definitely had.

“Aziraphale.” The demon’s voice was low and rough, something of a teasing edge in his timbre that sent a delicious shiver down Aziraphale’s spine. 

“Yes, dear?” His attempt to tamp down the arousal in his voice failed and he groaned inwardly.

“What are you doing, Aziraphale?”

“I’m just--well--”

“Are you touching yourself?”

He sputtered. “Crowley, really. I’m just--well, you see, I was thinking about you just before you called and--”

“Angel.” Aziraphale stopped mid-sentence at the teasing lilt in Crowley’s voice. “You know if you just ask, I’ll take care of you. Do you want me to take care of you, sweetheart?”

He gave a full-body shiver at the rarely-used endearment. Aziraphale nodded before he realized Crowley couldn’t see him. “Yes,” he whispered, more of a shuddered breath than a word. “ _Please_.”

“Are your trousers off or have you just slipped your hand inside to play with yourself?”

He blushed as Crowley called him out. “They’re still on. The buttons are undone, and I’m still wearing my cardigan and shirt.”

“Take them off for me. And unbutton your shirt. I want to see all of you.” He heard the clatter of Crowley’s belt buckle and the smooth _schwip_ as it was freed from the demon’s tight jeans. 

He made quick work of his trousers and briefs, shoving them off his legs with a kick that was definitely less dignified than anything he would deign to do in Crowley’s presence, and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt before picking up the phone again and nestling it carefully between his ear and shoulder.

“I’m undressed.”

“Wish I could see you, angel. I love the way you look when you’re spread out on our bed, just ready to be consumed. Like a _tart_.”

Aziraphale whimpered again and reached his hand down to relieve the powerful ache between his thighs, but he stopped himself. He wanted _Crowley_ to be the one to tell him when he could, _how_ he could. Felt something in himself that wanted to submit since Crowley called him sweetheart.

“Can I touch myself again, Crowley?” 

Crowley inhaled sharply and Aziraphale could hear the rustle of more fabric through the phone. “Oh, _yes_ , Aziraphale,” he hissed. “Tell me, what were you playing with that caused you to make that delicious noise earlier?”

“My clitoris." He could feel it and the empty clench inside himself throbbing under Crowley’s attention. Crowley uttered a soft groan and then he heard a distinct, slick, skin-on-skin sound. He imagined Crowley’s hand stroking his own cock steadily as he listened to Aziraphale and it sent a sharp pull of arousal to Aziraphale’s cunt.

“Oh, you know I love when you have a cunt, angel,” Crowley rasped. “Love you in anything, but you just get so _wet_ for me like this. Do you remember how to put yourself on speaker, Aziraphale? You’re going to need both hands for this.”

Aziraphale fumbled with the phone until he set it on speakerphone and laid it on the pillow next to his head.

“Okay, you’re on the speaker.”

Crowley chuckled quietly. “Good, angel. Now, I want you to touch your chest. Just light strokes, the way I like to tease you. Drag your nails along your skin.”

Aziraphale did exactly as he asked, his limbs commanded by Crowley’s voice, and he was already so wound up from his earlier activities that he couldn’t help but whine as soon as his nails moved along his sensitive skin. 

“Yeah, just like that. Play with your nipples now, slow. Roll them in your fingers and tug a little bit.” 

Crowley’s voice was honey, coursing slow and thick through his veins as he let Crowley take care of him. He keened as he played with the tight buds, sensitive and hardening quickly under his touch. Crowley’s breath hitched and it sent a flood of arousal through the angel.

“Crowley, please let me touch myself.”

“You are touching yourself, angel.” Aziraphale huffed and he could just _feel_ Crowley’s self-satisfied grin through the phone. 

“You’re just awful-- _ohh_.” He tugged sharply at his nipples again and groaned. He wondered if he could get off like this, just to spite Crowley.

“Yes, well, if I’m so terrible, maybe I’ll just get off and won’t let you come at all until I get back tomorrow.”

Aziraphale froze. “Oh, you _wouldn’t_. Darling, please, please let me touch myself, properly.”

Crowley tutted. “Ah, now it’s _darling_ when you really want something. I see how it is.”

“ _Please_ ,” he begged.

Crowley sighed in exaggeration, although Aziraphale could tell there was a quickness behind the breath that belied Crowley’s cool facade. “Yes, all right. It’s only because I like you so much, though. Go ahead and slide your hand down and rub at your clit. Use your other hand to keep playing with your nipples and don’t finger yourself yet.”

Aziraphale obeyed and cried out in relief as he finally touched his swollen clit, fingers gliding easily through the slick and wet that had gathered while Crowley talked to him. 

“Fuck, angel, you always sound so good. And I can hear how wet you are from here. Wish I could bury my face in your cunt, get my face soaked as I suck on your clit and tongue you open. I bet you could take three of my fingers right now.” 

Aziraphale keened and he had never felt emptier. “Please, please,” he breathed.

“Would you like that? Want to feel my fingers in you? Go ahead, angel, put them in.”

As soon as he was given permission, he slid three fingers into himself and nearly sobbed. His other hand came to rub on either side of his clit as he pumped in and out of himself quickly. Crowley was right - he was so wet and open that his fingers met no resistance and in fact, he felt like he needed something more, something deeper. He needed Crowley.

“It’s still not enough, Crowley,” he panted. “I need your cock. I need you here and I need you to fuck me into this mattress until I can’t _walk_.”

Crowley groaned deeply and Aziraphale could hear him fist himself faster. “ _Shit_. As soon as I get home tomorrow, I’m gonna pin you up against the door and fuck you right there. Gonna make you come on my cock twice before I carry you up to the bedroom and keep fucking you.”

Aziraphale _ached_ for Crowley’s cock, could feel his pulse around his fingers as he continued to thrust his fingers in and out and whimpered into the pillow by his head. 

“Angel, miracle yourself a dildo shaped like my cock, you should know every inch of it by now, and fuck yourself with it. Yeah?” 

“Yes, yes, _yes_.” Crowley was a _genius_. The smartest, most obscene, _perfect_ being on Earth. He removed his fingers, snapped, and suddenly a weighty dildo rested in his hand. He took a moment to really examine it up close, at every vein and imperfection. He slipped the head past his lips and _yes_ this was as close to Crowley as he was going to get. He moaned and suckled at it before slipping it out again.

“Did you just _suck_ on it?” Crowley sounded ragged. 

He made a noise of affirmation as he positioned it at his entrance, rubbing it over his clit a couple times with a quiet gasp. “Needed to make sure it’s accurate. I’m about to push it in-- _ah!_ \--oh, _Crowley_. If I close my eyes, it’s like you’re here, fucking into me.” He did close his eyes then, imagining the demon crowding over him protectively, and savored every inch as he pushed the dildo to the hilt inside him. He let out a sharp exhale.

“How does it feel? How do I feel?”

“ _Marvelous_.” He held onto the base and slowly started fucking himself with the toy before building up a faster pace. “Sometimes it feels like you were made to be inside me. You just fit so perfectly.” 

He hit that sensitive spot on one of the thrusts in and his hips lifted off the bed, arching his back beautifully, and his other hand clutched desperately at the sheets as a sharp spike of arousal flooded through him. 

“Darling, I wish you were here. It feels so good, but it’s not the same.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. I wish I was there, too.” Crowley’s voice was a reedy thing, sounding like he was one miscalculated move from pushing himself over the edge. “Fuck yourself faster now. Because I know that’s how you really want it, Aziraphale. Hard and fast and so desperate for it. You make me so desperate for it.”

He fucked himself on the toy at a punishing pace and grasped at the headboard above him, letting out little hitching breaths as his peak rose higher and higher.

“I’m close, I’m so close, please. Crowley, are you close too?”

“ _Yes_ , angel. Come on, come for me. Let me hear you come around my cock.”

Aziraphale thrust the dildo in harder, lifting his hips to try to get impossibly deeper, and came with a shout, his desire uncoiling through his nerves and buzzing across his limbs. He heard Crowley cry out with a deep groan on the other end of the line as he came and then the sound of both their shallow panting as they caught their breath. Aziraphale traced the edge of where the dildo was still buried inside him and grinned dopily.

“Mm, darling, that was _wonderful_.”

“Yeah, it was.” He could hear Crowley’s smile matching his own and sighed happily before taking out the dildo with a wince and placing it gently beside him. His fingers skated up the side of it as he said, “You know. I think I might keep this for us to play with. Wouldn’t it be nice to fuck myself on it while I suck your cock?”

Crowley squawked and Aziraphale let out a deep belly laugh. Crowley grumbled and he heard a rustle as the demon settled further into bed. “I was going to ask how your weekend was, but a certain deviant angel has worn me out for the night.”

“There’s nothing deviant about exploring our love, Crowley. What nonsense.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I’m not kidding about being tired, but I still want to hear what you’ve been up to. Your voice can soothe me to sleep.”

Aziraphale laughed fondly. They spent the next several hours catching up and then just talking as they always did, especially after desperately missing each other’s company. Aziraphale cleaned and tucked the dildo away in their box of toys and then snuggled under the covers as they spoke. It was around one in the morning when he heard Crowley yawn a few too many times in a row.

“Darling, you need to get some rest. You have a busy day and a long drive tomorrow.”

“‘M fine, angel. Want to talk to you.”

Aziraphale chuckled softly. “We’ve talked for awhile now, dearest. Go to sleep. I’ll be here tomorrow, and I expect you to make due on your promise to fuck me against the front door when I see you.”

Crowley let out of a muffled groan. “I’ve married a terror.”

“Yes, I rather think you have. I’ll see you tomorrow, my love. Good night.”

“‘Night, angel. Love you too.”


	2. Crowley

Crowley flopped down on the bed, his limbs splayed and stretching as far as they could, fingertips barely reaching the edges of the mattress. He blew a loud sigh through his lips and stared up at the ceiling.

Aziraphale left in the early morning for a bookbinding conference (it was unfortunate that the only events they really attended happened to fall on back to back weekends this year) and Crowley was listless. He’d felt an unsettled energy thrum under his skin as soon as the angel left in the car, waving at him eagerly through the back window.

It’s not that he didn’t have things to do and it’s not that he couldn’t go a couple days without seeing Aziraphale, although thank someone he would be back tomorrow. He could be a normal demon and have a normal night and not spend the entire time thinking about last weekend when he’d taken Aziraphale apart with his words. When the angel had made those perfect sounds through the phone (and then the next day when he’d made good on his word and fucked him right against the door).

But with each passing hour of Aziraphale’s absence, his mind was racing and he realized just how much he needed to be pinned down by his wrists and told exactly what to do. 

He lasted fourteen minutes into his ennui before he decided _fuck it_ , blindly reached for his mobile on the bed, and dialled Aziraphale’s number. It rang twice and he briefly considered hanging up and just dealing with his restlessness himself, but then he heard Aziraphale’s chipper tone through the phone.

“Crowley! I wasn’t expecting you to call.”

Crowley smiled despite himself. “Hey, angel.”

“How are you? I thought you might be busy tonight, but I’m very happy you called.”

Crowley curled up on his side and played with the frilly edge of one of Aziraphale’s pillows. “Yeah, realized I wasn’t really in the mood to do anything tonight.” He tugged at the lace. “And I missed you.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I missed you too, dearest. How was your day?”

Crowley made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. “It was all right. Watched some telly, took a walk.”

“That sounds nice. Is that all?” He heard a lilt in Aziraphale’s voice and he knew he was being called out.

Crowley made another noncommittal noise and he heard Aziraphale smile.

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right, Crowley? You’re groaning a lot.”

He rolled his eyes and turned over to lie on his back.

“I _miss_ you. Miss your voice.”

“You have my voice now, dear.”

“Miss your face.”

“And I yours, Crowley.”

There was an extended silence and Crowley groaned inwardly. Aziraphale was going to make him say it. 

“... Miss your _hands_.”

“Ah, there we go.” The angel’s smile was somehow both smug and blinding through the phone. “Last weekend was fun, wasn’t it?”

He flexed his fingers and looked at his nails, as if feigned nonchalance for an audience of precisely himself didn’t make him more pathetic. He groaned. 

“Yeah.”

“Where are you? What are you wearing?” Crowley heard the rustle of fabric and creak of a bed as Aziraphale seemingly settled on his hotel bed. He couldn’t even be too embarrassed that Aziraphale had so easily zeroed in on what he needed. It just made him feel loved.

He could, however, be embarrassed by his current outfit which he really should have changed if he was calling explicitly for phone sex. 

“I’m in our bed. Wearing your blue jumper, my black pajama pants, and.” He couldn’t bear to say the last article out loud.

“And?” 

He wiggled his toes, the flash of little red apples dancing as he did.

“Those fuzzy socks you got me last Christmas.” He was going to die here, on this bed, and either the embarrassment of showing his stupid, sentimental heart so easily or whatever Aziraphale was going to do to him was going to get him.

Aziraphale cooed. “Oh, how lovely. Are they comfortable?”

“Aziraphale, come on. Yes, they’re comfortable. Make me take them off.”

The angel gave a considering hum. “No, I don’t think so. I think the socks will stay on for now. Now. As fetching as you always look while wearing my clothes, I want you to take off my jumper and anything you might have on underneath it.” 

Aziraphale’s voice was steady, firm and commanding, but affectionate. He took a quick breath, privately thanking _whomever_ that Aziraphale knew him so well, and removed the jumper and t-shirt underneath. He tossed them off the bed and set the phone on speaker next to him.

“Took it off.”

“Mm, lovely. I would say that if I had my way, you’d be shirtless all the time, but that discounts how well you look in your tailored shirts and blouses and corsets. Run your hands over your chest and your stomach, and don’t go below your waist. Pretend it’s my hands, appreciating you the way you deserve.”

He skimmed his hands down his chest, a path of goosebumps following his fingertips. He dragged his nails up his ribs, feeling the shallow waves of bone under skin. He felt himself slipping into that calm mindset already and hummed quietly.

“Feels nice, angel.”

“I’m glad, darling. Keep touching yourself, and play with your nipples, too. Pinch them tight, just how you like it, how I like to give it to you.”

His hands skated up his torso and his palms rested warm and tingling on his chest. He dragged his thumbs over his nipples in quick flicks before pinching and tugging at them sharply. He keened, a sharp throb of arousal going straight to his dick. 

“You make the most exquisite noises, Crowley. Keep touching yourself, slowly.”

Crowley continued to run his hands over his chest, down his arms, pinching his nipples every time he skimmed across them. He felt the ghost of every time Aziraphale had touched him just like this, his broad palms and thick fingers teasing and caressing with more love than he ever knew what to do with.

He was getting desperate, his cock completely hard and aching in its silk confines. He scratched his nails low on his stomach and groaned, his hips bucking in the air.

“Aziraphale, please.”

“All in due time, dearest. Just keep your hands above your waist. I want to take my time with-- _oh_.”

Aziraphale let out a moan. Crowley’s cock twitched, but he stilled his hands and listened intently. He heard Aziraphale’s breath coming out in soft pants, the distinct sounds of the angel touching his cock echoing through the speaker. He whipped his head towards the phone.

“Are _you_ touching yourself?!”

Another little gasp and Crowley was sure he was leaking through his briefs. “Of course, Crowley. I rather thought that was the point of this.”

Crowley groaned in frustration and scratched his nails again through the coarse hair just above his waistband. “You’re a bloody _tease_. Come on, Aziraphale. I’m so fucking hard. Please. I need you to touch me.” He swallowed, his voice quieter. “I need you to tell me how to touch myself.”

Aziraphale let out a shaky exhale. “Yes, darling, I have you. Touch yourself. But don’t slip your hand in just yet. Just feel yourself over your pajamas.” 

Crowley slipped his hand lower and cried out softly as his cock finally had something to rut up against. He slid his hand down until he cupped his balls and then moved back up, squeezing the shaft as he went. His hips rocked up into his hand as he repeated the motion.

“Angel, _please_.”

“Take off your pajamas and pants. Get your hand on yourself.”

Crowley shoved the garments down and kicked them off the bed. He wrapped his hand around his cock and moaned through gritted teeth as the arousal that had been building, centering in his gut spread through the rest of his body in a wave at the touch. His toes curled and he realized that he was still wearing the fuzzy socks.

“Can I take the socks off now?” He laughed breathlessly, unable to hold back another groan as he thrust his cock into his fist.

Aziraphale laughed. “No, I don’t think so. Tell me what you look like, Crowley.”

He glanced down at his cock as he stroked himself. “So fucking hard. I--You know I like it when you tell me what to do. There’s some precome at the--at the tip. And I’m using it to slick-- _fuck_.” His hips lifted off the bed as he fucked harder into his hand.

“ _Yes_ , I bet you’re just dripping for me. I wish I could taste you. Suck on the head of your cock just the way you like before I take you all the way and gag on it.”

His eyes fluttered at the mental image and he stroked himself faster, cupping his balls in his other hand and massaging them. Aziraphale’s breathing was labored and he heard the angel’s strokes increase in speed as well.

“How--how are you touching yourself? Tell me, angel, please.”

“I’m stroking my cock and I have two fingers up my arse.”

He said it so matter-of-factly that Crowley choked. “You’re killing me, Aziraphale. Fuck, I want you here, too. I want _your_ cock in my mouth, could suck you while I finger you.” The angel groaned deeply.

“Oh, we could do it at the same time. It’s been so long since we’ve done that. The feeling of you, _filling_ my mouth while your lips are wrapped around me… it’s so _erotic_. I wish we could do that right now.”

Aziraphale paused and gave a considering hum, and Crowley’s cock twitched helplessly in his hand as he dragged his fingers up and down the shaft. He knew that particular tone well; he was fucked, and he was so fucking excited.

“Suck yourself, Crowley.”

Crowley almost blacked out and came right there.

“I know intimately how flexible you are. It shouldn’t be a problem for you. Don’t you want to?” His tone was almost a coo, a dare, and fuck if Crowley wasn’t going to let Aziraphale bait him into this very brilliant idea.

“Fucking _Christ_ ,” he muttered. He thought for a moment about the best way to do this and ended up repositioning himself so his head was towards the foot of the bed, a pillow propped under his neck. He reached for his phone to move it closer to his head and then swung his legs up in the air, using the momentum to propel them further until his cock was above him, a scant few inches from his face. 

Crowley had done this twice before. The first time he thought of it, he was convinced he was the cleverest son of a bitch in the world, deserving of commendations from both Hell and Earth. Then the practicalities of it set in and he’d ended up with a crick in his neck and the distinct feeling that he’d enjoy getting his dick sucked a lot more if a fussy angel was doing it instead. Turned out all he needed was for the fussy angel to want him to suck his own dick to make it worth it.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice came breathlessly. 

“Yeah, angel, hold on. Just. Getting into position.” He took another deep breath and looked at his cock. The head was flush and red, a bead of precome at the tip threatening to drip onto his face if he didn’t act soon. He lowered his hips, never more grateful for his natural flexibility, and at the first touch of his cock head to his parted lips, he felt a flood of arousal through his twisted pretzel of a body. He opened his mouth further and took the entire head into his mouth, tonguing and suckling at it insistently. He heard Aziraphale’s punched out breath through the phone and suddenly remembered that he had an audience. He groaned around himself and wrapped his arms around his thighs to sink further into his mouth.

“ _Crowley_.” Aziraphale sounded ragged, awed, as if he was actually there with Crowley to witness this. “How does it feel? Oh, well, I suppose you can’t speak right now. I wish I could see you, you gorgeous thing. I love sucking you, darling, the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. I’d do it for hours, have you fill up my mouth over and over again.”

Crowley whimpered and flexed his neck and throat to take himself deeper, bobbing around his shaft and genuinely enjoying the taste and feel of himself on his tongue. He swirled his tongue around the head, flicked his tongue impossibly at the sensitive underside. The angle was similar enough to when he and Aziraphale did this together that he imagined it was Aziraphale’s cock and moaned, the salty taste of precome flooding his mouth. The only sounds in the air were Aziraphale’s needy moans and the obscene, wet sound of Crowley sucking himself off.

“You’re making the-- _oh_ \--the _filthiest _noises right now, Crowley. Are you getting close?” Aziraphale’s voice was strained, his breath coming in shallowly.__

__He made an affirmative noise around his own cock. His fingers flexed on his thighs as he pushed even deeper, sinking nearly to the root, and he’d never been more thankful that he didn’t need to breathe._ _

__“I want to hear your voice again when you come, darling, can you use your hand again?”_ _

__Crowley reluctantly lowered his neck and his cock slipped free from his lips. He kept his legs flung over him, couldn’t be bothered to swing them back down, and took his cock in hand, slippery from his own spit._ _

__“Fuck, Aziraphale.” His voice was raspy, raw, strained from the effort of keeping his neck elevated and from the cock in his throat. “Can we do that when you get back? I can suck myself and then suck you next.”_ _

__Aziraphale inhaled sharply. “ _Yes_ , yes, yes. I’m close. Can you come for me, darling? Come for me, Crowley, come.”_ _

__He sped up the hand on his cock and shouted as his orgasm ripped from the base of his skull, down his spine, and closed his eyes as he came on his face. He felt it splatter, hitting his chin, his cheek, across his closed eyelid. He heard Aziraphale’s strained groan as the angel came too._ _

__Crowley wiped the come from his eye before opening them again and moving to a more comfortable position. He saw the flash of the red apples on his socks as he swung his legs down and started laughing. He’d just had his cock in his mouth and _came on his own face_ and he was still wearing these ridiculous, _wonderful_ socks that his husband had bought him after he’d complained one too many times about his feet being cold._ _

__Aziraphale started giggling on the other end of the line. “My goodness.”_ _

__Crowley’s tongue darted out to lick the come off his lips and he hummed._ _

__“Yes, my love?”_ _

__“Nothing, just. Didn’t really move my cock after taking it out of my mouth and came on my face. Just licked some off my lips.”_ _

__The line was silent for so long that he was afraid it had disconnected._ _

__“Aziraphale?”_ _

__He heard a frantic rustling and the creak of the hotel bed over the phone. “I’m packing and coming home _tonight_. You wily demon, I can’t spend another minute away from you longer than I have to. This was all a plan to get me to leave early, wasn’t it?”_ _

__Crowley laughed and cleaned his face with a flick of his finger. “You don’t need to, I just cleaned up.”_ _

__He could just see Aziraphale’s stern pout and grinned, curling back onto his side and pulling Aziraphale’s pillow close to his chest. “Come on, angel. You know I don’t actually want you to leave early. I know you really wanted to go to that Nag Hammadi binding workshop. You know I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back tomorrow.”_ _

__Aziraphale sighed. “I suppose you’re right. There’s some equipment I wanted to purchase tomorrow from one of the vendors as well.”_ _

__“Besides,” he drawled. “If you came back right now, you wouldn’t receive any of the very suggestive text messages and photos I have planned for tomorrow.” Aziraphale choked and Crowley threw his head back as he cackled._ _

__“You are an absolute menace, you know that?”_ _

__“Yeah, love you, too.”_ _


End file.
